


You Are Cordially Invited

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne wasn’t in the habit of making vows she wasn’t going to keep, Renly asking so nicely without any hint of an obligation, but the endless circle of dress fittings and brunch and family members she couldn’t keep track of was beginning to test her usual endless patience. </p><p>A fluffy ficlet for JB Appreciation Week, Day 5: An AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Cordially Invited

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fluffy little ficlet for the JB Appreciation Week, which was found 3/4's written on a post-it note a few weeks back from a very slow day at work sometime last year. (There's more ficlets to come from my found post-it notes soon!)
> 
> As always, huge thanks go to RoseHeart. I wouldn't be anything without her endless patience, support and friendship. Even on the bad days, she's been there to pick me up and I really can't thank her enough for everything over the past year. 
> 
> Also, I must thank fleetingmusings, for being generally awesome and so understanding about this ficlet in particular. What do they say about great minds? :)
> 
> And finally, thank you to Sandwichesyumyum for being amazing and talented and for boosting my confidence right when I needed it most!

“I pity the poor person who had to wrangle your hair into that bun. Did they have to strap you down or did you go to the chair willingly?”

His voice was now as familiar as breathing, though far more abrasive, and Brienne’s hand immediately rose to pick at a hair pin, subconsciously twirling a strategically placed strand that covered her scar around her index finger. “I’m the maid of honour, remember?”

“Only if ‘maid of honour’ is some sort of code for ‘pig-headed wench’.”

Her head snapped up, drawing Jaime’s attention to the fire he’d lit behind her eyes. “Don’t call me that.” He casually leant against the piano she had hidden herself behind, watching her watch him, emerald green sparking under the spotlights. “My name is…”

“Brienne”, he purred. “You don’t think I know that by now? I moan it often enough.”

She pressed her lips together nervously, feeling his eyes join the dots of her freckles together as if it were his fingers or mouth traveling over the surfaces instead, lapping and nibbling at the flavoured balm one of the other bridesmaids had pressed into her hands before the ceremony. He had been an unwelcome spectator that morning, lying shirtless on a rapidly cooling bed, trying to talk her out of the pale lemon dress that had been delivered the night before by a giggling Tyrell cousin. He knew as well as Brienne did that she would be uncomfortable in the pretty chiffon before the wedding even began, drawing her attention first to the tennis shorts and swimsuits that were falling out of her under stuffed overnight bag and then back to the strands of fair hair still slumbering on the pillow, plans and promises for the rest of the extended weekend vacation on the Highgarden estate taking shape before her eyes. She wasn’t in the habit of making vows she wasn’t going to keep, Renly asking so nicely without any hint of an obligation, but the endless circle of dress fittings and brunch and family members she couldn’t keep track of was beginning to test her usual endless patience. Something usually only reserved for the blond who kept finding her when she needed him most.

Jaime glided towards her, in no hurry at all, although her heart seemed to be, Brienne instinctively reaching for his wrist before his glass stained the luxurious dark wood of the baby grand. Her thumb slipped into his palm, the tenderness of the touch causing him to mutter something she couldn’t quite hear over the cacophony of the occasion. Emboldened, Brienne tried again, but as she knocked against glass instead of skin, he released a string of curses as they both let the Tyrell rose champagne flute drop to the floor. Renly’s voice cut through the excited whispers to call the room to order before she could apologise.

“Find me later?” she asked, not listening to her oldest friend’s request for her speech as Jaime’s beaming smile became her entire world for a moment. “You still have my…”

He only grinned wider, the memory of why she’d arrived at the earlier bridesmaid’s brunch late and more than a little flustered pinking her skin, her best bra having disappeared into the pile of pillows after Jaime had deftly removed it and persuaded her to get a head start on the relaxation part of their break. “And you still have my copy of the room key so you’ll know where I’ll be. Now, go, do your duty, _maid_ of honour.”

Renly and his husband fixed her with equally questioning stares as they clapped her up to the main table, Brienne burning up from the inside out with every step as she wondered just why she had agreed to this in the first place. Jaime whistled his appreciation from amongst the shattered glass, the glare she sent back over her shoulder doing nothing to silence him.

“Brienne Lannister, everybody.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)


End file.
